TINMAN
by BeachBum87
Summary: Kensi has been setup by someone called the 'Tinman', and now every law enforcement agency in L.A. is after her. There's only one person she can turn to for help, and she'll have to depend on him if she wants to stay alive...
1. Chapter 1 -- High Stakes Game

**Author's Note: So, I've heard that a lot of you guys really don't like Assistant Director Granger, and I'm with you. I really don't care much for him myself, so in light of this I decided to write this little diddy-and I know it won't make it too much sense starting off, but just hang in there with me and I promise you it will.**

**- TINMAN -**

**Chapter One**

_**Friday, 2:30 a.m.**_

Taking a red-eye flight from Hawaii to L.A. is anything but fun, and when your mind is racing at a million-plus miles per second the stress is intensified at least twelve-fold. Nevertheless, he's been ordered back to OSP A.S.A.P. effectively cutting his much-needed vacation rather short, and as he checks the time on his wristwatch for like the three millionth time since boarding the aircraft he can't help thinking about his partner.

He hopes that she's okay, and that all of his worries and fears are for nothing. Still he can't quite shake the haunting feeling that something is very wrong, and it is that that has prevented him from even trying to sleep. He'd tried calling her several times just prior to takeoff, but with no good luck. At first he just shook it off, telling himself that he'll see her as soon as he lands at LAX. Now, however, he's not quite so sure anymore.

* * *

**NCIS, Office of Special Projects 7:45 a.m.**

He can only imagine what he must look like, as he strolls through the front entrance at OSP some time after 7:30 in the morning. To be honest though, he doesn't really care. The only thing that seems to matter at present is finding out why his well-earned, week long surf trip was cut so short.

All in all the mission seems pretty quiet, except for the two hushed voices he immediately recognizes as those belonging to his teams' two senior agents—G. Callen and Sam Hanna. He lets his tired feet carry him around the corner, and into the bullpen where the aforementioned duo is quietly discussing their theories for the teams' abrupt call back. As much as he hates breaking up such deeply involved conversations, he really hates being in the dark even more.

He puts on that stupid, lopsided grin they all tease him about, and after letting out a deep breath or two he finally crosses the threshold. "I got it." He says loudly as he steps into view. "You guys all missed me so much, and that's why I got called back." The other two agents watch as Deeks enters the bullpen before them.

Sam chuckles to himself, clearly amused by the shaggy-haired liaison officer. "Keep dreamin' shaggy." The ex-Navy Seal quips with a grin.

"I'm with Sam." Callen remarks. "I think I'd rather have Don King, than you Deeks."

"Oh, ow. I'm wounded." Deeks quips, laying a hand over his heart, as a huge grin crosses his face once again.

After a moment or so things finally get a little more serious though. "So, you guys too hunh?" he asks, as he drops his duffle bag to the floor near his feet. One quick sweep of the area around them tells Deeks that his partner has not arrived yet.

"Yeah." Sam replies, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Us too." Callen adds, folding his arms across his chest. "Red eye?" the team leader asks, noticing the rather haggard appearance of the shaggy-haired man.

Deeks nods with a sigh, as he runs a hand over his weary, blood shot eyes. He says a silent prayer for answers, and that they'll come quickly so that he might at least get a chance at a few hours of good, solid sleep.

"Any idea why we we're called back?" Deeks asks next, looking from Callen to Sam, and then back again. "I mean cause we only get like _one_ week of actual vacation every six months—if even that."

"I agree, but unfortunately we know about as much as you do." Callen says somberly.

"Great." Deeks says with a sigh. "So add it all up, and we got nothing. Yeah, that's very reassuring."

"Tell me about it." Sam remarks.

Deeks' thoughts suddenly shift to his partner who, as far as he can tell, is still missing from their little get together. He pulls out his cell phone again, and checks it for any messages, text messages, or returned calls from the gorgeous brunette he's grown quite fond of during his time on the team. Nothing, just like last time.

"Hey, um you guys heard from Kensi?" Deeks asks, shoving his phone back into his jeans pocket.

"No, why? You haven't?" Callen sounds surprised by this little revelation made by the shaggy-haired liaison officer.

"No, and trust me—it's not for lack of trying." Deeks admits.

"Hmm, that's strange." Callen muses aloud, scratching at his chin.

"Nah, she probably stopped for coffee and donuts and got sidetracked." Deeks muses thoughtfully, imagining the sexy, ninja assassin that is his partner lounging around in her car, with her face covered in donut glaze and coffee stains on her shirt. The thought makes him laugh to himself.

"Hey, Shaggy! Close your mouth, will ya? You're drooling over there." I wonder where she could be?" Sam jokes, with a laugh as he watches the LAPD detective shake himself from the enthralling reverie he was just immersed in.

"Still, its not like her to be late. I wonder where she is?" Callen says questioningly to no one in particular. As he speaks, the sound of footsteps approaching from the direction of Hetty's office suddenly fills the air.

"That makes two of us, Agent Callen." Comes the familiar, gravelly voice of everyone's least favorite person, Assistant Director Owen Granger. He appears around the corner, a file folder in one hand, and a stern expression painted across his face.

"Assistant Director Granger." Callen calmly greets the Assistant Director, all the while eying the mysterious man very cautiously. Sam only nods in acknowledgement of the Assistant Director's presence.

"Detective."

"Granger."

"Where's Hetty?" Callen asks next, unwilling to let Granger make any other move(s) until the tiny operations manager is present. It isn't Granger who answers the question though, as footsteps on the staircase alert the four men to a second presence approaching their position.

"I'm here, Mr. Callen." Comes Hetty's reply as she finally reaches the bottom step on the staircase. "You weren't going to start without me, were you Owen?" she asks as she descends the staircase from Ops.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Hetty." Granger replies, as a smirk appears upon his face.

"You'll forgive me, if I don't take your word for it."

"Burn." Deeks mutters under his breath, as a tiny grin plays at the edges of his mouth.

"I'm going to assume that no one here has heard from Ms. Blye, correct?" Hetty asks, as she finally enters the bullpen only seconds later.

"Bout the size of it." Sam replies.

"Why?" Deeks asks next. A sense of utter dread invades his mind as he stands in place, and every muscle in his body begins to tense up, as if in anticipation of bad news. He prays in silence, multiple times, that his gut instinct is wrong this time, and that his partner is home, safe and sound, and just oblivious to the world—that would explain her absence. Yet, some how, from somewhere deep within himself he just knows that Kensi is at the very center of why they've all been called here.

Assistant Director Granger takes a deep breath, as he eyes each of the three men currently standing before him, and then lets it out again before finally speaking up. He extends his arm forward, and drops the thick, manila file folder onto the nearest desktop. The word **CLASSIFIED** is scrawled out across the front of the folder in big, red block letters, and just above that is written something else: **TINMAN**.

"What's that?" Deeks asks, as he reads off the file folder's labels in silence.

"TinMan is the codename used by a long-time foreign spy rumored to be stationed somewhere in this country. Never been seen. Never been heard. The only reason we know about him at all is because he's one of the most arrogant sons-of-bitches in the world." Granger explains. He steals government secrets, right from under our noses, and then turns around and sells them on the black market—and he likes to leave a very distinctive calling card behind in his wake."

"A calling card, really? You mean like the joker in _The Dark Knight_ film?" Deeks says, looking towards Granger.

"Actually, yes, Mr. Deeks." Hetty replies, flipping open the file folder in front of them. Inside the file folder, resting right on top of everything else, is a photocopy of a computer print out that depicts what appears to be the 'Tinman' from _Wizard of Oz_, but with a sinister red smile painted across his metal face.

"Spooky." Deeks remarks, looking up from the photo.

"Right. Anyway, at the scene of every theft he leaves one of these behind." Granger continues. "Along with some kind of taunting note." He adds a second later.

"This is all interesting stuff, but what does it have to do with Kensi?" Sam asks.

"Everything. As of seventy-two hours ago, Agent Blye is wanted for the crimes of treason and espionage against the United States of America." Granger informs the group, in almost too casual a manner.

"That's ridiculous." Callen remarks almost instantly, his body straightening up slightly and his arms falling to his sides.

Looks of surprise abound following Assistant Director Granger's shocking revelation, and these looks are quickly followed by rebuttals of disbelief. Deeks is the first to object, which in short is no surprise.

"No, it's bullshit is what is." Deeks corrects the team leader.

"As crazy as it sounds," Granger continues. "I have been informed by Director Campbell of the CIA, that they actually have evidence to support their claim."

"Oh, those people." Callen remarks flatly. "Certainly explains a lot." he adds a second later. He is clearly irritated by this particular piece of information.

"Figures." Sam chimes in.

"I don't believe it. There's gotta be some kind of mistake." Deeks says, with a nervous laugh. "The Kensi I know is no traitor—not now, not ever. I mean, if you're expecting me to believe that my partner is moonlighting as some kind of double agent in her spare time—forget it, I ain't buying."

"Tell me Detective, just how well _do you _know Ms. Blye?" Granger asks, eying the shaggy-haired detective very closely.

"Excuse me? What the hell's that supposed to mean?" Deeks replies, as a spark of anger flashes through his Pacific blue eyes. He doesn't for one second like what the Assistant Director is implying in regards to his partner.

He knows Kensi Blye, and regardless of what any one else says nothing will ever, or could ever change the way he feels about her. Most of all, Deeks simply will not tolerate anyone, especially some one like Owen Granger, trying to tarnish her reputation. Especially not without good, solid evidence to the contrary.

"I'd watch that tone, if I were you Detective." Granger's voice is low and threatening when he speaks, but it does very little to ruffle Deeks' feathers.

"Gentlemen." Hetty says calmly, cutting in between the two men. The two men stop, and turn their eyes to the tiny woman. "Now, Mr. Deeks, no one is asking you to believe anything—yet. _I_ have yet to see this evidence they claim to have, and so am inclined towards skepticism myself. However, Ms. Blye still needs our help. According to our sister agency, she's been running from them for nearly three days now, and our priority here must be to find her first."

Deeks nods in agreement with Hetty.

"You're serious about this?" Callen asks, eying the manila file folder and then Granger.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Granger retorts, his face remaining just as stern as before.

Sam's face depicts something along the lines of confusion as he finally raises his eyes to look up at Granger. "Why the three day wait period then?" He asks. "Why are we just hearing about this now?"

"I can answer that as well." Hetty says, cutting off the Assistant Director before he can say anything else on the matter. "Until just a short while ago, Director Campbell believed his agency more than capable of apprehending one person."

"Yeah, accept Kensi's more like an entire army all rolled into one being." Deeks points out proudly. "I'd almost say 'good luck', but it wouldn't do any good."

"Agreed, Mr. Deeks. Still, our kin at the CIA felt that their inability to successfully do the job, warranted the enlistment of our aid." Hetty explains.

"As of right now, NCIS is actively involved in a statewide manhunt for Agent Blye, along with LAPD, the FBI, and possibly the NSA." Granger informs them.

"Shit." Deeks swears under his breath. "Hetty, please tell me we're planning to do something to help Kensi."

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse, Harbor District 8:16 a.m.**

Sunlight trickles through several small cracks in the wooden beams hung across one of the warehouses' lower-set semi-boarded up windows, and lands upon the face of one slumbering Kensi Blye. She squeezes her eyes shut against the unwanted light, and tries to will her self back to sleep. It's something that she hasn't had much of in the last few days.

The position she's chosen to try and sleep in isn't helping her situation much either, but under the circumstances its really the best she can do. She sits huddled up in a corner near the door, her head resting rather uncomfortably against the hard, concrete wall, and absolutely nothing but the clothes on her back to keep her warm. Perhaps that has something to do with how miserable she's been the last night or two.

Her appearance isn't much to look at either, and even without a mirror to look at her self in she can only imagine how bad she must look—especially if pain is anything to go by. She knows she has a busted lip, and at least one small gash on the left side of her face. The intense throbbing in her head, which has only just begun to subside, is enough of a confirmation that she at least has a bad bump on her head—if not a mild concussion. She's pretty sure she even has a black eye to boot.

It's hard to imagine how everything could have gone so wrong, so quickly. However, it did happen as such, and she hasn't the first clue as to why. The only thing she knows for sure is that she's spent the last two days running from the LAPD, the FBI, CIA, and hell, probably even the NSA for all she knows.

_She pulls her SRX into her usual parking spot just outside her apartment. Her Mother is sitting next to her in the passenger's seat. It's late in the afternoon, and she and her Mother are just returning from a quick grocery run. She puts the vehicle in park, unbuckles her seatbelt, and then the two of them climb out. The two women then take a moment to collect the groceries from the back of the SRX before continuing on to Kensi's apartment._

_Her thoughts wander once again to her partner. She knows that he decided to spend his week off surfing in Hawaii, and she wonders how he's doing. Undoubtedly, knowing her partner as she does, he's probably having the time of his life._

_She isn't paying attention, as they makes their way to her front door, but her finely tuned senses tell her she's being watched. She slowly lifts her head to see a group of men in dark suits basically surrounding her place, and also several other guys that appear to be local LEOs._

_One of the men notices her, and begins to approach her. "Ms. Blye?"_

"_Depends on who's asking." Kensi replies cautiously._

"_I need you to come with me." The man in the dark suit says in a very blunt manner._

"_What is it you need from my daughter?" Julia asks, worry coloring her face._

_Two men appear from off to one side, and together they flank Julia—quickly overtaking her right before Kensi's eyes. "Hey, let her go!" Kensi shouts angrily. "Look, I don't know who you or your friends over there are, but I'm a federal agent—NCIS."_

"_We know who you are, Ms. Blye. We don't want to hurt you or your Mother, but we need you to come with us. Now." His voice rises a bit, and his tone is much more fiercer than before._

_Julia struggles against the grip of the two men firmly holding her in place, but it is to no avail. They are much too strong for her. "Kensi, baby! Run!" Julia shouts to her daughter, sensing that the men are not there just to talk with her daughter._

"_Mom?" Kensi begins to back up a little bit, slight worry creeping up inside of her. _

"_Don't worry about me, honey-just GO!" Julia shouts again._

"_Get her!" The man in charge says suddenly. "Don't let her leave!"_

Her eyes finally flutter open, only to be shut tight against the blaring rays of morning sunlight falling over her face. She shifts her position slightly until her face is hidden once more within the safety of the shadows. She opens her eyes again, and this time as she blinks away the sleep in them she takes the time to look around at her present surroundings.

_Shit. It wasn't just a dream._ She thinks to her self. "I really am in hell." She whispers miserably to her self. She tells herself as she sits quietly, trying to suppress the ever-growing headache coming over her, that she needs help. Amidst these thoughts an image of the only other person she truly trusts begins to form in her head. _Deeks._

…TBC…

**Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter of my newest story. This one is going to be packed with lots of great twists and turns, as well as some really sweet Densi moments. So be sure to tune in for more excitement as it comes your way.**

**Coming Soon, The Next Thrilling Installment – Chapter 2, Off The Grid **


	2. Chapter 2 -- The Good Samaritan

**Author's Note: Here you go guys. Soooo sorry for the delay-things at work have been super busy lately, and I'm actually being considered for a promotion so things have been doubly busy on that front. Fret not, though, my loyal readers as I promise to do my best at posting updates regularly. Thanks again you guys sooo much :)**

**- TINMAN -**

**Chapter Two (The Good Samaritan)**

Two people sit on opposite sides of a small table inside in a dimly lit interrogation room of sorts. On one side of the table sits a very serious looking man in a dark blue suit. He studies the woman across from him in silence for a long period, before finally leaning forward in his chair. The woman is Julia Feldman, Kensi's Mother, and the CIA is holding her for questioning in regards to the whereabouts of her daughter.

"How much longer am I going to be here?" Julia asks, unable to keep the irritation from her voice.

C.I.A. Agent Travis Denning folds his hands atop the table in front of him. "Depends."

"On what?" Julia demands evenly.

"Your cooperation." Denning replies, coolly.

"My cooperation? Look, I've already told you everything I know—repeatedly. Now, you can't hold me here any longer. You have no right!" Julia replies, with an air of frustration about her.

Standing over in the far corner of the room is C.I.A. Agent Charles Fox. Agent Fox has been observing the room's other two occupants silently from his place leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. Now, however, he chooses to step in.

"What you've given us is nothing. Nothing we don't already know, anyway." Agent Fox interjects. "I wouldn't even think to call that cooperation."

Agent Denning shifts uncomfortably in his chair. "And actually Mrs. Feldman, we can keep you here for as long as needed." Denning informs her. "If I were you, I'd just cooperate. The sooner you do that, the sooner we can all go home."

"Look, I don't know what it is you people think my daughter's done, and frankly I don't care. I know she's innocent in all this, and even if I _did_ know where to find her—I wouldn't tell you."

Denning rubs the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger, as a sigh of frustration escapes over his lips. "You do understand that we could have you locked up in Gitmo for conspiring to aid a terrorist?" Denning asks, hoping to finally make Mrs. Feldman see the light.

Julia's eyes are moist and red with emotion at this point, and her voice shakes a little when she speaks. "I lost my Kensi once. I don't think I could bear losing her again." She says, with a small sniffle.

Denning sighs once more, realizing that he's lost this one, and nods towards his companion in the corner of the room. "Take her away." He tells Agent Fox.

"Gladly." Fox replies, as he moves towards Mrs. Feldman.

"Mrs. Feldman." Denning says, just before Agent Fox escorts her from the room. "Your daughter is out there now, but she's all alone and, according to my latest reports, not in the best of shape. We will find her—with or without your help."

* * *

**Abandoned Warehouse…**

She remembers the chase. She remembers being heavily pursued by multiple targets, and one of these in particular who was especially persistent—'Sacks'. At least that's how she remembers him identifying himself. She also remembers how the chase ended—badly. She veered the SRX around a corner, and just narrowly missed side swiping another of her oncoming pursuers. The resulting over-correction on her part sent her precious SRX barreling out of control across the last stretch of dry land between herself and the edge of the docks.

She doesn't remember actually hitting the water—that part is a bit hazy. However, she does remember what happened afterwards…

_Something cold and wet surges over her, and the following shock that courses through her body is enough to rouse her. She sucks in a deep breath as she comes to, and blinks her eyes fiercely against the salty water sloshing up into her face. She looks around, slightly confused and disoriented, and realizes within seconds where she is—in her car, underwater._

_She isn't sure how she wound up like this, but she knows for certain that she can't stay this way for long—not if she wants to keep on living. For the moment she ignores the various bruises and painful sensations that seem cover her body, and instead begins to move her hands frantically beneath the steadily rising torrent of water still flowing into the car around her. At the same time she fights to stretch her neck as high as she can so as to avoid taking in unnecessary gulps full of salt water while she works to escape__._

_The water has risen up past her chest and is beginning to slowly inch its way up her neck now, but she finally manages to get at least one hand onto the seatbelt release switch. Then she instantly brings her other hand over to assist in unlatching herself. She fumbles, tugs and yanks at the safety strap mercilessly, but for whatever reason just can't seem to get her fingers to press down on the right area of the switch. Something akin to fear begins to steadily rise up from within her, and it takes a great deal of effort just to stave it off._

"_Pull it together, Fern!" a loud, familiar voice echoes inside her brain._

_She pauses in her doings, and takes a moment to collect herself before continuing. She counts down slowly to herself…3…2…1…a deep breath, and then the water finally breaks over her face and covers her entirely. She opens her eyes, ignoring the slight sting of the salt water around her, and glances down at the spot where her hands are still clutching at the lower end of her seatbelt._

_Now she is finally able to maneuver her fingers correctly into place, and the feeling that moves through her at the sight of the harness finally unlatching is utterly surreal. She lets her body drift upwards a little bit afterwards, and then quickly maneuvers herself into a stretched-out position with her feet aimed directly at the driver's side window. Her assault on the now completely submerged windows lasts only a few short moments before the glass finally shatters outward away from the vehicle._

_It takes her almost no time at all to spin around, and force her slender figure through the new opening out into open water. There she doesn't wait around to watch as her precious SRX finishes sinking to the bottom. She remembers the mad scramble to reach the surface that followed her escape from the sinking vehicle, but after that everything else is still a bit on the fuzzy side. She must have done pretty well though, if she managed to climb out of the water and hide from her pursuers. _

Kensi awakes with a start, and her body resists every effort to move, but she knows that she cannot stay where she is if she wants to survive her current ordeal. She figures she must have dozed off once again, and scolds herself internally for doing so. Most of her body screams in agony now as she begins to shift from her former sleep position into a more upright position with her back leaning more fully against the buildings' metal frame. The most intense pain she feels at the moment is the throbbing in her head. She ignores this though, and with her right hand digs her cell phone out of her jeans pocket. To her utter dismay, however, she realizes that said device is completely useless, and rendered so by her time spent underwater.

_Shit!_

She chokes back a disappointed groan, and bites down on her lower lip as she fights back the tears that are threatening to fall from her mismatched eyes. She stares at the phone blankly for a long period afterwards, obviously deep in thought. Its screen is dark and lifeless, and reflects the hopelessness she feels in her heart. She wonders if her Mother is okay, and wishes that she could call and check on her. Then a thought occurs to her that such an effort would be utterly futile, as the people after her would surely be holding the older woman for questioning and probably for later use as leverage. She scolds herself again for getting the only real family she has left involved in all of this mess—whatever it is.

She suddenly finds herself wishing that she could see _him__._ Her partner, Marty Deeks, is the one person she trusts more than anyone else in the whole world. He's also the one person she would have never thought could get so far under her skin that it would make her itch just thinking about it. Since their partnership began she's really come to depend on the annoyingly charming, shaggy-haired Detective, but what they have together goes way beyond the simple 'Best Friends' label they've assigned to describe their 'thing'. Not until Marty Deeks entered the picture had Kensi ever experienced such an odd combination of longing and fear.

In secret she quietly lists to herself all of the things that, in her mind, make the shaggy-haired surfer cop so irresistibly perfect. Like the way in which he can always make her laugh in even the darkest moments of their job, or how his self-less, caring nature never fails to warm her heart, and not to mention his truly irritating knack for being able to read her despite her best efforts to remain a mystery, and God help her, that perfectly chiseled body of his. These are the ways in which Deeks has gotten under her skin since they first met. Yet, they are but just a few of the many reasons why she loves him.

And there it is—_Love._ That wretched four-letter word she's fought so hard to shield her fragile heart from. After Jack left, anything remotely resembling the foul, double-edged emotion she dubbed as wrong. Fear came to rule her life over the following years, and with each one that passed her resolve grew that much stronger. Never again would she allow herself to be lured in and trapped only to feel betrayal once again at the hands of cupids' cruelty. So then why now does she feel so differently? How can she possibly want something she knows will only end in hurt? At the moment there is no clear-cut answer for the female federal agent, and perhaps there never will be as long as she continues to cling to her sordid past.

For the first time since the time she was forced to go off the grid in order to track down her father's killer, she really feels truly alone. It's a sobering realization indeed, and one that makes her shudder from within as she thinks over all of the things she's wanted to do, but never done; or the things she's wanted to say, but never said. The loud voice in her brain chooses to speak up once again, but this time its quieter and softer.

"_If you could see Deeks one more time, what would you tell him?" _the voice in her head asks. _"If given a second chance, would you finally open up to him? Would you tell him that Astrid was right?"_

Kensi leans her head back against the metal wall, and squeezes her eyes shut tight against the oncoming flood of tears. "I don't know. Maybe." She whispers to no one in particular.

A sound suddenly reaches her ears then, and her entire body stiffens in response to it. She strains her ears as she tries desperately to make out what it is. It's getting louder she finds, and it seems to be coming from just outside. A new sound emerges a few seconds later. This one sounds a lot like a short chain being rattled about, and it continues on as such for a few brief beats before it finally ceases.

A door opens just a short ways down from her current position, and she squints against the harsh sunlight streaming in, as she tries to make out the person entering the warehouse.

"Hello?" comes a quiet, gravelly voice.

"H-Hello." Kensi finally manages, after swallowing a hard lump in her throat.

"Who's there?" the gravelly voice asks next, with an air of child-like curiosity.

"Just me." Kensi replies. It only takes the female federal agent a couple of seconds to realize how silly and ridiculous her response must have sounded. "My name is-err-I mean, I'm a Federal Agent."

"A Fed?" the voice replies questioningly.

"Yes. I'm with NCIS." Kensi replies, choosing to elaborate on at least that much.

"Wait." The voice comes again. The person finally chooses to close the door, and Kensi breathes out a short sigh of relief as the harsh sunlight is pulled away from her tired eyes at last.

"It's you."

"Excuse me?" Kensi asks, as her eyes slowly begin to adjust to the dim light of the warehouse once again. She watches as a middle-aged, black man in ratty clothing starts slowly towards her.

"You mean you don't recognize me?" The man seems shocked and amused at the same time as he draws nearer and nearer to her. "Cuz, honey, I sho'nuff remember you." As the man speaks a large grin appears to grow across the scruffy gray of his face.

"I-I'm sorry—should I?" Kensi asks, still struggling against the throbbing in her head. The man does look somewhat familiar to her, but at the moment her brain is just too scrambled to really focus.

"Well, maybe not. I s'pose it's prolly jus a old man's wishful thinking." He quips, and then gives a short, dry cough.

A light bulb suddenly goes off inside Kensi's own head, and the man's face suddenly becomes associated with a name she only heard a few times before. It was during a case that NCIS was assisting LAPD with some time ago. She and Deeks had been following a lead, which eventually ran cold, but to her utter surprise her partner snatched a small victory from the jaws of defeat then. The two of them proceeded to meet with one of Deeks' CI friends who was able to provide them with a crucial piece of evidence.

The man in question turned out to be a very gentle soul, and even came to the rescue of the partners during an ensuing firefight. The man, though wounded due to his actions, refused any sort of reward later on, and shortly after being discharged from the local clinic he faded away into the shadows bidding them farewell until their next meeting. At this point, Kensi feels in her heart that if Deeks trusts this man with his life, then she will too.

"Garrett." Kensi chokes out, as the realization strikes her suddenly. "Marty's friend."

The man laughs in response, and it is a warm, heartfelt laughter that comes from within the gentle, older man. "You do remember."

"Garrett, wha-what are you doing here?" she asks, a stunned expression painted across her delicate features.

"Out patrollin', like always." Garrett replies, with a soft chuckle. "There's some folks in this world dat sees folks like me as some sorta disease, you know? So, those of us who can have to stick our necks out and stand up for the others who can't do so for themselves. Speakin' o' which-why are you here alone? Where's Marty?"

New tears appear upon the cheeks of the female federal agent as she stares up at what just might be the most welcome thing she's seen in days. The man apparently notices this, and quickly moves in to see what's the matter. Kensi quickly swats at the tear streaks with the backs of her hands.

"Somewhere." Kensi mumbles miserably, thinking about her beloved partner.

"Hey now, you alright there Ms. Kensi?" Garrett asks softly, as he kneels beside the female federal agent.

"N-not really." Kensi replies. "I need your help, please."

"A blind man could see dat. Ya look like hell, if you don't mind me sayin'?" Garrett replies, semi-jokingly.

"Yeah." Kensi half-chuckles. "That's about how I feel, to be honest." The two of them share a small laugh, but then Kensi's lip begins to quiver a bit.

"Now tell me sweetheart. What can ol' Garrett do for ya? You just name it, and I'll see it done." Garrett replies, as he looks the trembling female federal agent over with his eyes.

Kensi takes a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking again. "I'm in a bit of trouble, and I need to get a message to Marty. Garrett, no one else can know though. Okay?"

"You have my word, darlin'." Garrett replies, stroking her hand gently with the two of his.

* * *

**OSP, Ops Centre…**

Everyone is gathered in the Ops Centre at OSP, as their attention is glued to the image on the giant plasma screen at the front of the room. A dark-haired, blue-eyed middle-aged man stares out at the occupants of the tactical room, and he holds a serious expression upon his face. This man is none other than C.I.A. Director Arthur Campbell.

So far Deeks isn't all that impressed with their 'guest', and so spends most of the time studying everyone else around him. Callen and Sam are standing together just to one side of the table at the center of the room looking on in interest at the man moving about on the plasma screen. At the front of the room, as always, sits Eric and Nell hovering over their consoles, which is natural behavior for a couple of computer geeks like them. Then there is Hetty and Assistant Director Granger, who have positioned them selves just a short ways back from Eric and Nell. It is these two that he sees having the most interaction with the man on the plasma screen.

On another note, the shaggy-haired detective is beginning to get annoyed by the constant vibrating of his cell phone, and the unknown number displayed across the Caller ID. It seems like he's already declined the call at least 5 or 6 times at this point.

"Henrietta. Owen." The man on the plasma screen greets the operations manager and the Assistant Director.

"Arthur." Hetty replies, with a nod.

"Director Campbell." Granger's greeting is a little more formal than Hetty's.

"What can I do for NCIS this morning?" C.I.A. Director Arthur Campbell asks.

Hetty steps forward, away from Granger, letting her arms hang freely at her sides. "I think you know why we're calling." Hetty states calmly. Arthur Campbell nods and lets go of a long sigh, as he shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"This is about Ms. Blye." He states evenly.

"Indeed it is." Hetty replies. She is obviously eager to move forward and get to the point of the conversation. "I understand that your office has evidence proving Ms. Blye's involvement in, shall we say, Espionage activities. Correct?"

"It is." Campbell replies, as he makes a throat-clearing sound. "If you're asking what I think you're asking, Hetty, then the answer is no."

"Why's that?" Granger asks, before Hetty even has a chance to open her mouth.

Granger's reply causes Deeks to tense up for a moment, and he's not sure why he does it. He figures it must be something about the way Granger responded to the other man's statement. To be honest, it isn't sitting well with him. He was quick on the draw—maybe a little too quick. Whatever the reason, he feels that same uneasy sensation from earlier churning his insides once again.

"It's need to know." Campbell replies sternly. "The material in question is very sensitive, and with all due respect…you don't need to know."

"Surprise, surprise." Callen mutters under his breath.

"Forgive me Sir, but we're talking about one of my agents here. And if memory serves, NCIS was asked to lend assistance in this matter." Hetty states, her blood pressure beginning to rise a bit now.

"That is correct." Campbell replies. "However, your agency was asked to assist _only_ in the capture of Agent Blye. Nothing more. Kensi Blye is now a wanted fugitive, and every resource at our disposal is being exploited in our efforts to apprehend her."

Deeks is quickly gaining a strong disliking towards the Director of the C.I.A., and to add to his frustration his thoughts keep wandering back to his partner and just where on earth she could possibly be. She's out there somewhere, alone, desperately trying to stay alive, and he's not there to help her. He feels a sharp pang in his heart with these thoughts followed by more anger.

"Seriously?" Deeks pipes up from the back of the room. "I'm not sure I'm okay with you talking about my partner like she's some common criminal."

"Excuse me?" Arthur Campbell replies, and the slight edge to his voice indicates that he is not really pleased with Deeks' tone. The C.I.A. Director is visibly beginning to lose his patience at present, and everyone in Ops is paying close attention to the shaggy-haired Detective.

"What if she's innocent?" Deeks asks, unable to suppress the irritation within his own voice.

"Do you have any evidence to support that theory?"

"No, but-" Deeks is about to protest, but a stern look from the muscular ex-Navy Seal silences him on the spot. His irritation is at an all time high now, and the familiar, unwanted vibrating sensation coming from within his jeans pocket is where he decides to direct his anger.

He digs device out of his jeans pocket, and clicks the 'accept' button. He then raises it to his ear, as he turns his back to the on going conversation between Hetty, Granger, and Arthur Campbell. "Whoever this is…this really isn't a good time." He doesn't get to finish his train of thought as the voice he suddenly hears from the other side cuts him off.

"Garrett." Deeks says the name in shock and embarrassment. The shaggy-haired detective turns away and exits the Ops Centre, with his cell phone pressed to his ear.

"This discussion is over. Hetty, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do." Arthur Campbell apologizes. "If Ms. Blye does try to contact you, I trust you will notify my office promptly." He adds, his attention momentarily drawn to the retreating Marty Deeks. Then the huge plasma screen goes dark a few seconds later.

"He was helpful." Sam quips from the corner.

"Don't forget charming." Callen remarks dryly, with a shake of his head. "And come to think of it, he did seem a little nervous. Almost like he didn't quite believe half of the stuff he was saying."

Granger nods in agreement, and then gives a sigh. The Assistant Director then turns to face Hetty with a grim expression on his own face. "What's our next move?" He asks.

"Good question?" Hetty replies, before turning her eyes upon the two tech analysts seated quietly at their respective consoles. "Mr. Beale? Ms. Jones?"

Eric and Nell look up at Hetty simultaneously at the mentioning of their names. "Sorry, Hetty. I got nothing—either she's removed the battery from her phone, or its damaged." He explains somberly.

"I ran a check on her credit cards, and got the same—nothing. She hasn't used them at all in the last two days at least." Nell lets out a small sigh, and glances toward her partner with a worried expression drawn across her face.

"Oh, right. Well, um, here's the thing—her cell phone's either been damaged somehow, or she took the battery out. Either way it's a lost cause." Eric explains, glancing sideways at Nell as he speaks. "And the GPS locator on her vehicle isn't responding either."

"Hey shaggy, you got anything?" Sam asks, looking to where the liaison officer had been standing just a few minutes earlier. However, he is no longer present in the Ops Centre.

"Where'd he go?" Callen asks next, noticing the shaggy-haired man's sudden absence.

Hetty closes her eyes tight against the intense headache she can feel suddenly coming on. She isn't exactly sure where her liaison officer has gotten off to, but something tells her that the next few hours are most assuredly going to be a living hell. "Oh bugger." She mutters under her breath.

**…TBC…**

**Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed the read, and hope that you will all join me later on for the next thrilling installment titled _Off The Grid_…**


	3. Chapter 3 -- Oh Bugger

**Author's Note: Hey everyone :) Sooooooo Sooooo sorry for the delay in updating. I was promoted to a higher position at work, and so as a result my life has been much more hectic as of late, but I promise you all I will continue to update this story, as well as all my others, and I will do so in as timely a manner as possible. Just hang in there with me please :) :) :) Also, I know that this chapter is extremely short compared to the first two chapters, but again just hang with me...I promise you all that it will get better with the next chapter. Thanks again everyone for all of the love and support for this story, it really means so much. :) :) :) :) :) :)  
**

**- TINMAN -**

**Chapter Three (Oh Bugger)**

She dozes off again while waiting hopefully for her partner to come and rescue her from the horrible nightmare she wants so desperately to escape. Time passes her by in this state, and the pain from her bruised, battered body is eased somewhat.

"Kensi." His voice cuts through the ocean of haziness clouding her mind, and it's the most wonderful sound she's heard in a long time. She wills herself desperately towards the surface, swimming and pulling herself through the dense waters of unconsciousness as the familiar voice continues to echo all around her.

Her eyes flutter open and once again they are assaulted by the harsh intensity of the sunlight still filtering in through the windows overhead. A soft moan passes her lips at the unpleasantness she feels all over her body, and as the sickening feeling slowly intensifies, sending her reeling from the extreme pain, she finds herself longing once more for the blissful peace of slumber.

"Kens, look at me." Her eyes snap open, and begin to focus on the familiar form of her shaggy-haired partner. His brows are knitted together in a look of concern as he kneels next to her.

"Deeks." she groans, as she struggles to pull herself upright.

"Don't. You're hurt." He says immediately, placing a firm hand against her shoulder.

"No shit." She snaps, immediately regretting it. "Sorry, I didn't mean that. Oh, God, my head is pounding." She adds miserably, wrapping her arms even tighter around herself, and squeezing her eyes shut tight.

Deeks gives a small chuckle. Honestly he is just glad that she's still alive, and is more than willing to put up with a little crankiness from his partner. "Don't sweat it, Fern. I'd be cranky too if I'd gone three days without a donut." He jokes quietly.

Kensi lets out another moan as her tongue wanders hungrily over her lips. He isn't wrong about the donut thing either, and its only now that she realizes how empty her stomach really is.

The liaison officer lets his eyes wander over his partner's body, noting just the injuries he can see, and it's enough to send a surge of anger rushing through him. He clocks a bruise against one side of her head, which could mean a concussion, as well as one on her neck and several up and down both arms. He gently runs his fingers over a gash in her lower lip, and the action elicits another moan from his partner.

"Sorry." He apologizes in a quiet voice.

"Whatever they think…I did. Deeks, I didn't." she mumbles miserably, as she fights to keep her eyes open and focused on her shaggy-haired partner.

"I know, and besides it's really not that bad. The C.I.A. just thinks you're selling government secrets to our enemies." He says very nonchalantly.

Kensi groans miserably at her partner's revelation.

"But that's the least of our worries right now." He says next. "You need a doctor."

"No, no-" the battered female federal agent protests, trying to lean forward in an attempt to prove that he's wrong. Her effort backfires horribly, and she has no choice but to lean back against the metallic wall behind her.

"Yo! Marty!" the familiar voice of his loyal CI reaches Deeks' ears, and the Detective swivels his head around to see Garrett just steps away from himself and Kensi. The man's chest is heaving, and his eyes display a certain measure of fear and concern. This instantly worries Deeks.

"What?"

"We got company!" Garrett explains, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "There's about four or five cars, and they don't look friendly."

Deeks swears under his breath as a terrifying realization washes over him. "Figures." He mutters to himself as he turns back to look at Kensi.

Kensi listens intently as the sound of many feet scrambling about outside reaches her ears, and she suddenly feels her heart sink within her chest. A look of hopelessness flashes across her mismatched eyes as she stares up at her shaggy-haired partner, silently realizing that she cannot allow the one person she cares about most in the world to go down with her.

"Deeks, leave me." She says a second later, her hand pushing against his firm chest as emotions steadily rise up within her own.

"You're kidding me-right?" he retorts with a huff.

"Look, they're after me. Not you." She explains hurriedly, her voice cracking as she speaks. "You risked enough by coming down here, and with any luck you can get out with your job intact."

Kensi lifts her eyes to Garrett then. "Garrett, thanks for everything. I mean it."

"Can you hear your self right now?" Deeks asks. "Cause I can, and it sounds nothing like the Kensi Blye I know."

Kensi lets go of an exasperated sigh as she rolls her eyes at her partner. "Deeks, its over—okay? By now they've got the place surrounded, making most escape attempts futile at best. Besides that I can hardly move right now. It's just not worth it."

Deeks' face is set in an expression of fierce determination as he stares back at his partner, studying her for a brief moment. Then a tiny smirk crosses his lips and a chuckle escapes his throat, "You'd think after all this time together, you'd know me better than that." He quips. "Its like Sam says, you know, 'A Seal never leaves a man behind'."

"Deeks, you're not in the Navy and you're not a seal." Kensi replies, tiredly rolling her eyes, but the shaggy-haired man leans forward a little bit so that his face is just mere inches away from hers.

"Nope, but I am Marty Deeks." He replies, with a wink. "And just between the two of us…you're worth it." He whispers the last few words. A mysterious, mischievous glimmer appears in his eyes as he speaks.

Kensi swallows a lump in her throat, as she stares into her partner's gorgeous Pacific blue eyes. She suddenly feels butterflies in her tummy, followed by a warmth that spreads quickly throughout her body.

"Deeks…" she chokes out finally. "If they catch you helping me, you could lose everything—even your job."

"It's better than losing my Partner." He replies softly.

* * *

Everyone at OSP is worried about the missing liaison officer, and since he simply refuses to take their phone calls they've put their two technical specialists on the case. In the mean time Sam is pacing the floor mumbling angrily to him self, and Callen is seemingly lost in the realm of his own thoughts. Hetty, on the other hand, is standing directly behind Nell and Eric waiting not so patiently for results.

"I can't believe he'd just take off." Sam remarks angrily. "I mean she's his partner."

Callen looks up at his partner then. "Something tells me that's _why _he left." Callen offers.

"I am inclined to agree with Mr. Callen on this one." Hetty says, keeping her eyes glued to the plasma screen before her. "Speaking of which, any time now would be good, Mr. Beale. Ms. Jones." Hetty speaks over them, and the two young tech wizards shoot each other matching glances before returning to the task before them.

"We're working as fast as we can, Hetty." Eric replies, clearly exasperated at this point.

"I think I found something." Nell says suddenly, looking up from her console. The others immediately shift their attention to the female tech operator.

"Whatcha got?" Callen asks.

"I was checking his phone logs, and I found this." As she speaks a new display appears upon the huge plasma screen. "According to this Deeks received a phone call just before he disappeared. It could've been her—couldn't it?"

Sam steps up beside Callen, and folds his arms across his muscular chest. "Maybe. Can you tell where it came from?" Sam asks, feeling a slight bubble of hope rising up in his chest.

"Ummm, it looks like it came from a payphone near the Harbor District." Nell replies, quickly pulling up the information with relative ease. Sam lets out a long sigh, and shakes his head miserably.

"Dead end." The ex-Navy Seal mumbles.

"Maybe not." Eric cuts in a second later. "I just got a hit on Deeks' cell phone. Just let me cross-reference the data with recent satellite images of the area and..._viola!"_ As the technical analysts fingers dance over his keyboard a zoomed in satellite image appears on the plasma screen. A long warehouse building is highlighted near the center of the photo.

"That's a warehouse in the Harbor District. What's he doing down there?" Nell asks, simply saying what every one else is currently thinking.

"You really think he found her, G?" Sam asks, turning his head towards his partner.

"Doesn't he always?" Callen replies, with a sideways glance at his partner.

Hetty steps up closer to the plasma screen, and narrows her eyes at one spot in particular that has suddenly caught her attention. "Mr. Beale, can you enhance this section here." The operations manager says, as she points a finger to the indicated spot on the screen.

"Uh, yeah. I can do that, no problem. Just give me a second." Eric says, running his fingers over the keyboard quickly. "Okay, there."

"Looks like Deeks isn't the only one who found her." Callen remarks as he studies the new image displayed across the huge plasma screen. It is an enhanced version of the previous satellite image, and from it they can easily make out the shapes of the vehicles currently surrounding the warehouse in question.

"Oh bugger." Hetty mutters, worry coloring her voice.


End file.
